


Maybe

by Morgan (morgan32)



Series: Poisoned Arrow [2]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: M/M, PWP, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-12
Updated: 2009-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 06:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <i>Cupid's Arrow</i>: with a little help from the Goddess of Love, Hercules and Iolaus reconcile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

It wasn’t somewhere Iolaus visited often. His home in Thebes held too many memories, many of them painful, for him to enjoy being there alone. As a result of his long absence (how long, this time? A year? Longer?) the place needed some fairly major repairs. Hercules had simply shrugged and suggested they get started.

Coming here had been Hercules’ idea. Perhaps he had sensed that Iolaus needed to be on his own ground for a while. Or perhaps Hercules, too, could feel safe here — certainly, they both needed the illusion, at least, of being free of the omnipresent eyes of the gods.

Iolaus waved his hand over the pot in a futile attempt to disperse the smell of burning. _What the hell. I never claimed to be a cook._ He heard a footstep behind him and turned to grin at his friend. "Hungry, Herc?"

"Judging by the smoke in here — no." Hercules was towelling his hair as he spoke. He wasn’t wearing his shirt: no doubt he had decided to wash that as well as himself.

"It’ll taste okay, Herc, honestly." Iolaus made a face, turning the statement into a joke. "Help yourself to some ale: it’s a good batch." Iolaus sat down on a bench against the wall, his eyes never leaving his friend as the demigod did as he’d suggested. He took a slow sip of his ale, considering the problem.

Things seemed okay between them now. But beneath the surface, there was still some tension: the words that must not be said, the careful avoidance of certain subjects. If they were going to heal their friendship, they couldn’t go on like this.

Easy to think. Not so easy to do.

Hercules had raped Iolaus. There were reasons, which had to do with Discord and her planned revenge; suspicions the demigod couldn’t prove. He refused to permit himself to use the gods as an excuse, anyway. Iolaus, knowing nothing of this, had obviously been hurt. His physical healing had been quick enough, but freeing himself from the mental scars of that experience was much harder. It took time to repair shattered trust. The place they had reached now was still fragile.

It had taken all of the hunter’s strength of will, in the beginning, to behave as if everything was normal. Because even though Iolaus believed he had done the right thing in forgiving Hercules and staying with him, everything was _not _"normal". Too much had changed in one night. And the question of the future — Iolaus’ tentative "maybe" — still lay between them. The tension between the two men had grown until it was unbearable. Finally, Hercules had told Iolaus to stop trying so hard to hide his feelings:

"You want to yell at me, do it! Want to take a swing at me — I can take it. Don’t hide, Iolaus." Then the demigod had laughed. "_I’m_ supposed to be the one obsessed with control, not you."

Hercules had no idea what he was going to get, though. Given "permission" to let his feelings out, Iolaus had, in the end, done just that. He told Hercules everything that had happened that night: not just the part Hercules already knew, but what happened afterward, too. What Discord had done to him. He had started out shouting. By the time he had finished, Iolaus was in tears.

Hercules couldn’t even imagine it. Iolaus had watched the emotions fly across his face: easily reading his thoughts. Guilt: because Hercules’ own actions had precipitated Discord’s attack on his friend. Anger: at Discord and also at Ares, who had neatly distracted Hercules, allowing Discord to take Iolaus. Horror: because Hercules could see as clearly as Iolaus did what Discord had tried — almost successfully — to do. She had used the image of Hercules to attack Iolaus, breaking his heart, his mind…leaving their already damaged friendship in tatters. What Iolaus hadn’t seen in Hercules was the pride and admiration he felt, listening to Iolaus’ confession, for the incredible courage he had shown, just by surviving.

Things had been easier between them after that.

And at some point — Iolaus wasn’t sure when — "maybe" had become "yes".

As the days became weeks, Iolaus had found he could relax more and more around Hercules. The shattered trust was beginning to reform. One night Iolaus even caught himself picturing the demigod making love with him…and realised then that they were a long way past "maybe". He wanted Hercules. The fantasy was no longer enough.

That had been last night, just before they reached Thebes.

Iolaus spent the day repairing the roof, while Hercules was fixing tools in his forge. Normally that would have been the other way around, or they would have shared the jobs, but the ridgepole was so rotted Iolaus had been afraid it would break under his own weight, let alone Hercules’.

At some point during the afternoon, Iolaus had realised he’d left one of the tools he needed in the forge and scrambled down from the roof to find it. As he entered the forge, he stopped, caught by the sight of his friend. He just stood there, watching. Hercules’ body was amazing, the muscles rippling beneath his sweat-sheened skin as he worked. Iolaus felt his cock swell, confirming the rightness of his still-unspoken choice and stifled a smile.

Hercules had his back to Iolaus, so it took a while for the hunter to notice what he was working on. A knife. Iolaus had assumed Hercules was still working on repairs, but he had been wrong — he was forging something new.

Iolaus had realised something, then. That Hercules was using this, driving himself hard, physically, because the demigod was as frightened as Iolaus had been.

It was a revelation.

What had Hercules said? _"I’m supposed to be the one obsessed with control."_

Self-control was more than important to Hercules: it reached into the core of what he was. To have lost control so completely, as he had that night with Iolaus, must have been devastating.

No wonder Hercules was afraid.

The question, Iolaus mused, as he dished out supper for them both, was what to do about it. Option one was do nothing. That wasn’t really possible. Their relationship had already changed irrevocably. The only thing they could do now was move forward. Option two…well, so far he didn’t have one. Knowing what he wanted, and knowing what the problem was got him only partway to how to solve it.

They talked while they ate: the usual, companionable chat of two friends who had a long history together. Hercules drank a little of the ale, but after that would drink nothing but water. Hercules never drank heavily, but to Iolaus, this confirmed his guess: Hercules didn’t want the alcohol to affect him even a little.

_Iolaus, stop driving yourself nuts thinking about it and **do** something! …**can** I?_

***

Hercules woke, instantly alert for danger. He remembered where he was, and relaxed a little, wondering what had awakened him. The room was almost completely dark. The he heard the sound again. It was followed by Iolaus’ voice:

"I know you’re awake, Herc. I have to talk to you."

"In the middle of the night?" Hercules asked, a frown of concern crossing his forehead.

"Yeah."

"Okay," Hercules agreed, trying to keep the concern from his voice. He shifted his weight to make room for Iolaus to sit on the side of the bed. But Iolaus quickly took advantage of this move, sliding beneath the blankets to join Hercules in the bed. He was naked.

"What are you doing?" Hercules protested. His body, always two steps ahead of his brain, sent a rush of blood to his groin. He stifled a groan. Hercules had lain awake for what felt like hours after Iolaus had gone to bed. He just couldn’t shake his desire, his _need_, for Iolaus. Earlier, in the forge, he had seen Iolaus’ reflection in the water barrel he had been using to cool the iron, and had felt his friend’s eyes on him long before that. It had taken all he could do not to respond. He had wanted to fall on his knees in front of the hunter and beg Iolaus to love him. He had wanted to throw him down on the stone floor and fuck him and be fucked over and over… All he could do was pretend he thought he was alone until Iolaus spoke. When Iolaus had left him there, Hercules had concentrated all his strength on the work he was doing, hammering at the half-formed knife as if that could somehow give him the control he so desperately sought, his frustration spoiling hours of work in a few moments. He’d almost cracked the anvil, too.

And now Iolaus was crawling naked into his bed and Hercules was hard as a rock, and had _no_ idea what was happening.

Iolaus, apparently oblivious to his friend’s discomfort, answered, "Isn’t it obvious? It’s _cold_ out there, Hercules."

"It wouldn’t be, if you were wearing something."

"I know." Hercules could tell from the hunter’s voice that he was grinning when he said that.

"Iolaus," — he tried to sound stern — "don’t."

"Why not? This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Me naked in your bed." Iolaus lay down, making quite a production of straightening the blanket. When he’d finished, he added, "Or have you changed your mind?"

"Changed…"

Suddenly serious, Iolaus said, "Hercules, if you really want me to go, I will. So tell me, do you still want me?"

Did Iolaus want him to say yes? Maybe he ought to deny it: Iolaus would feel safer that way. _Oh, for Zeus’ sake, Hercules, just tell the truth._ "More than ever," he confessed.

Hercules heard a soft sigh as he said the words. Almost as if it had been what Iolaus wanted to hear. As if he had been afraid of rejection. But surely that was too much to…

The light touch on his arm robbed him of the ability to think any more. Iolaus ever-so-lightly ran the backs of his fingers across the demigod’s flesh, from shoulder to elbow. The muscles quivered beneath the electric touch and Hercules’ breath escaped with a small sound. Iolaus moved slightly, bringing his body into contact with Hercules’. He’d been lying when he claimed to be cold. The heat of Iolaus’ flesh where they touched sent shocks of desire through the demigod’s body. He controlled his breathing with an effort, and tried without success to ignore his insistently throbbing cock.

"Herc," Iolaus’ voice was quiet in the darkness, "I know you’re scared of this. I am, too. But this is my home. My bed. I made my choice by walking in here, you understand? I’m in control."

The earnest way he said that made Hercules smile. "Is that what you think?" he teased, praying Iolaus would take that for the joke it was.

He seemed to. "Yeah," he said, with a touch of defiance.

"We’ll have to see about that," Hercules answered. Tentatively, he reached out; his questing hand awkwardly found Iolaus’ arm. Iolaus leaned just a little closer to his touch. Encouraged, Hercules traced the contours of that arm lightly, imitating the way Iolaus had touched him. Iolaus’ skin felt wonderful beneath his hand: warm satin sheathing firm muscle. Iolaus sighed quietly. But the caresses stopped there. Hercules found himself wishing for some light.

Iolaus’ voice came again. "I _did_ come here to talk, Hercules. There’s something…something I haven’t told you."

"What’s that?" Hercules asked softly. His hand moved of its own accord from Iolaus’ arm to his chest, stroking and learning the shape and texture of the skin.

"Remember the fight we had after you rescued me from Discord?"

Hercules tensed, his hand ceasing its explorations. He remembered. "Yes…"

"When I walked out, Aphrodite came to me…"

_Iolaus had been ready to walk out on Hercules: for good. He simply couldn’t cope with the memories. Aphrodite had stopped him, insisting, "You still love him, Curly. Or you wouldn’t be here."_

_The truth of Aphrodite’s statement pierced Iolaus’ heart as surely as one of Cupid’s arrows. However badly Iolaus had been hurt, Hercules was still the centre of his life, and he always would be. He walked away from Aphrodite a few paces, staring off into the distance, remembering the ordeal only a few days in the past. Hercules…Discord…_

_"What’s the point of this, Aphrodite?" he had asked her then._

_The goddess told him, "You two are supposed to be together."_

_Iolaus went white. "You mean…as lovers?" He swallowed. That had to be what she meant. Why else would she consider it her business?_

_"As two men who love each other," she corrected with a dazzling smile. "The details are up to you now, Sweetcheeks."_

"Is that why you’re here?" Hercules asked him. "My _sister_ told you to do it?"

Iolaus smiled in the darkness. It was true that Aphrodite had persuaded him to listen to Hercules. But it had been Hercules’ words, not his sister’s that convinced him to stay, that their friendship — with or without the "maybe" — was worth the risk.

Iolaus swallowed nervously. The darkness made it easier to say the words he hadn’t been able to speak by day. "I’m here because I want you. Because I’ve always wanted you. Aphrodite just made me realise it’s my choice, that’s all."

Iolaus was lying on his side with his back to Hercules, the demigod’s body curled around him. He could feel Hercules’ hard, hot shaft against his back. He knew how badly Hercules wanted him — he was equally hard himself — but so far the demigod had done nothing but touch Iolaus. The slow, gentle caresses of Hercules’ hands exploring his body were more arousing than he could have imagined. Iolaus thought he could probably come from that alone… He felt completely safe in his friend’s arms.

"Hercules…" he said softly.

"Mm?"

"Kiss me."

He felt Hercules’ body tense. Iolaus turned his face toward Hercules, closed his eyes and waited. The first touch, when it came, surprised him: Hercules’ trembling hand tracing his features, slowly. A fingertip drifted across Iolaus’ forehead, a light touch feathered across each eye, a thumb passed across his lips. He felt the shift of Hercules’ weight as he leaned over to kiss Iolaus. Long hair fell forward over Iolaus’ face, followed by his breath, warm across Iolaus’ waiting lips. Then their lips met.

If Iolaus had any doubts remaining, they were banished forever within that kiss. So slow…this coming together at last. So gentle…all the love in both their great hearts coalesced into a single, timeless moment. So intimate…the meeting of tongues, the mingling of taste, the blending of two souls always destined to be one. It was like no other kiss he had ever known. Words could be misleading or misunderstood, but not that kiss. Hercules silently offered and promised himself and his love, everything he was or could be to Iolaus and the hunter, his heart almost breaking from the sheer, pure joy of it, understood, accepted what was offered and promised the same.

Hercules broke the kiss reluctantly, his head spinning from lack of oxygen, wishing again for enough light to see Iolaus. He bent his head and nuzzled into Iolaus’ strong throat. "I can’t believe you’re here," he whispered hoarsely.

To touch, to feel, to kiss…all in near-complete darkness. It felt unreal. Hercules wanted the light: to see Iolaus, because only then could he be sure this wasn’t just a dream. The most he could see was the shape of his friend, and sometimes the glint of light off eyes or teeth, nothing more.

But Iolaus needed the dark. It wasn’t by chance he had waited until now, when the darkness could shield him from the nightmare Discord had created for him. Hercules understood that he had to prove, here, that this could be real for both of them. His arms around Iolaus’ body tightened, pulling him close and he buried his face in Iolaus’ wild, tangled hair. Other senses were heightened by the blackness; this could be an intensely erotic experience.

"I love you," Hercules breathed and felt Iolaus’ arms draw him closer in response. "Iolaus…I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready…"

Iolaus’ fingers, a gentle touch on Hercules’ lips silenced him and he heard, "Shh, don’t worry." Just a whisper, to reassure.

"Please…let me say it. If you want this to stop, at any time, just say it. Iolaus, I promise I will."

Iolaus’ hair brushed his chin as the hunter bent to kiss Hercules’ strong neck. A line of feather-light kisses moved along his collarbone, defining its shape, before Iolaus answered. "Thanks, Herc…but I’m not planning to stop this until dawn."

Iolaus was above Hercules now, their bodies touching everywhere they could. In control. Iolaus moved lower, spreading kisses all down his throat, rubbing his cock provocatively against Hercules’ thigh. More kisses, and Iolaus’ mouth found a nipple. He made a sound of pleasure as his tongue circled the hardening bud, and it seemed he couldn’t decide what to do: he alternately licked, sucked and nibbled at the flesh, tormenting Hercules with sensation.

Hercules couldn’t help the moan which escaped him.

Iolaus smiled to himself at the sound. Hercules’ hands slid down his back as he switched his tormenting attentions to the other nipple. He felt hands cup his buttocks, gently massaging, and heard his own voice moan in response. He slid up Hercules’ body, seeking his mouth for another kiss. Their cocks rubbed against each other and both men gasped. Iolaus captured Hercules’ lips. Nothing gentle about this kiss: Iolaus thrust his mobile tongue into his friend’s mouth, seeking, claiming.

Hercules was gripping his ass, his cock moving against Iolaus’ in slow, rhythmic thrusts, more than enough to send Iolaus to the edge of ecstasy.

"Oh, gods, Hercules…" Iolaus groaned into his mouth. Then a finger brushed his anus and Iolaus tensed, his incipient orgasm halted in its tracks.

"Are you okay?" Hercules asked worriedly.

"Mm-mm…"

Carefully, Hercules rolled them over, so Iolaus’ body was beneath his. His hand traced a line from Iolaus’ throat to his groin, and then encircled his penis, stroking gently at first, then milking him firmly.

"Oh, gods…" Iolaus groaned again. He forgot he had wanted to be in control of this, surrendering to the sensations, thrusting helplessly into Hercules’ hand as he teetered on the brink…and came, his whole body shaking with release as his essence pumped from him in a pearl-white stream.

Hercules was kissing him, the demigod’s lips lightly touching his eyes, his forehead, his lips, while Iolaus recovered, drifting back from the edge. That had been amazing. But Iolaus wanted more.

When he could speak again, he whispered, "Your turn…" He rolled over to give Hercules access to his body. That small thread of fear was back; Iolaus remembered Hercules’ violent invasion of his body only a few weeks before. It wasn’t easy to surrender so completely to a man who had taken him by force.

Hercules was stroking Iolaus’ back, from his shoulder-blades to the small of his back, slow strokes, designed to calm the fear he surely knew Iolaus would be feeling. As Iolaus sighed, relaxing a little, the caresses moved lower, over Iolaus’ ass.

"I won’t hurt you," Hercules promised quietly. He slid his hand between Iolaus’ buttocks, passing a well-lubricated finger over his tight opening…just touching, not trying to enter. Iolaus closed his eyes and enjoyed Hercules’ touch. At first, he thought that the slow, patient stroking was exactly what he needed. Then suddenly it was incredibly frustrating, Hercules teasing but not entering his anus. He was almost ready to beg for more when Hercules slipped a finger inside him. Involuntarily, Iolaus tensed, clamping down on the finger inside him.

Hercules, his voice barely audible, whispered, "Breathe, my love. I won’t hurt you."

Iolaus obeyed automatically, breathing deeply. It did help. As the tension eased, Hercules pushed his finger further in and withdrew. He pushed in with two fingers, working to stretch the tight opening. Fingers moving deep inside him, Hercules sought and found Iolaus’ kiss, his tongue lazily stroking in and out of Iolaus’ mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers. Iolaus barely noticed when a third finger joined the two. Their mouths drew apart as Hercules withdrew his hand.

"Please, Herc."

"Not this way." Hercules’ breath was warm on Iolaus’ face as he spoke. "Do you trust me, my love?"

_Maybe…_ "Yes."

Hercules’ touch, gentle but firm, guided Iolaus to move. Iolaus obeyed, but he was confused. "What are you…?"

His voice was softly soothing: "Relax, and trust me."

"I trust you," Iolaus said and found it was the truth.

He was sitting facing Hercules, astride his lap. Was it possible? Could Hercules take him this way, face to face? Hercules’ hands stroked slowly from his shoulders to his waist and hips, and Iolaus gasped as he felt himself lifted by those strong hands. Now the strength of Hercules was an incredible turn-on, no longer something to be feared. All that power…Iolaus knew that Hercules could so easily take what he wanted, but knowing he never would…

Hercules’ cock slid inside him. There was pain, but now Iolaus needed it, craved more of the pain, even, wanting to feel Hercules all the way inside him. He concentrated on his breathing, relaxing enough to let Hercules fill him. He gasped aloud when Hercules’ cock brushed past his prostate, sending a shudder of delight though his body, transforming the pain into melting heat.

"Oh, Herc…"

Hercules’ arms encircled him, pulling his body even closer. They kissed, and Hercules began a slow, rocking movement within Iolaus, setting up a languorous rhythm. Iolaus cried out as the slow burn within began to flame, his cock beginning to fill once more, trapped between their bellies.

"Iolaus…oh, love…" Hercules groaned into his lover’s mouth.

Hands gripped bodies, mouths locked, tongues met and entwined. Iolaus, helpless to do anything but _feel_, pressed ever closer to his lover, locking legs around his waist and holding on, as if their bodies could truly merge and be one and it was as if he was inside Hercules as deeply as Hercules was inside him and that rocking was driving him wild and the flame within became a white-hot flare, spiralling up into ecstasy and they came together, came and came, hard and hot and beautiful…

…and collapsed sideways onto the bed together, still entwined, still clinging to each other, still kissing…

Their bodies had to separate; their souls never would.

***

Much later, as the rosy light of dawn began to steal in through the open window, Hercules was still holding Iolaus close to him, curled around the smaller man’s body from behind, his cock, still half-hard, inside him. He stroked Iolaus’ blonde curls gently with one hand, planting a kiss on top of his head.

"Iolaus…?"

"Mm?" Iolaus murmured sleepily.

"Remind me to do something nice for Aphrodite."

Iolaus gave a soft laugh. "Just don’t ask me to thank Discord."


End file.
